Last week I turned up a piece that my father wrote about ten years ago when he was 75. It still makes me chuckle, so I thought I’d share it with you.
First by way of background, it’s a spoof round robin – the sort of thing you get at Christmas from distant relatives and friends telling you about their wonderful year. Don’t you hate them? You know the sort of thing, “Little Sophie is excelling at ballet, she goes for her audition at Sadlers Wells next month; she’s two years younger than most of the candidates, but her teacher has great hopes. Crispin celebrated his eighth birthday by completing the times cryptic crossword in nine minutes. The school say he is the most their gifted pupil since Darwin…..” And so it continues.
About ten years ago, my family used to get regular circular letters from a host of friends in Australia – only their children would be appearing at the Sydney Opera House or Melbourne Cricket Ground. They were enough to make anyone “speak into the big white telephone” as they say over there.
After one such missive too many, Mum and Dad decided to put together their own and send it to everyone who had sent them one. Mum has a wicked sense of humour and Dad has a way with words. It didn’t raise a titter from the Australians. But it stopped the round robins in their tracks. So here it is. You may find it useful.
December 2000
Hello again and a very Merry Christmas!
The Millennium year comes to an end and how exciting it has been – full of ups and downs.
The New Year’s honours list brought few surprises. Nigel was disappointed to receive no more than a knighthood for his services to the lingerie industry and the Temperance Society.
February and March brought two downs. First, Nigel on his knees before Her Majesty, and second, a prolonged and severe cold snap. The press blamed the government for its misguided attempts to reverse global warming. Thanks to Pat’s foresight, a substantial stock of candles and access to a peat bog saw us through the crisis.
Recovering from the cold snap and despite April’s floods, some metaphorical warmth entered our lives. As Britain’s first Olympic synchronised swimmer, Pat was invited to carry the Union Jack in Athens 2004. She will have some difficulty in handling her zimmer at the same time. But Steve Redgrave has offered to lend support and advice.
May was a quiet month, but early in June we were delighted when cousin Jean called in. She had just come from the Television Centre where she had been interviewed by Michael Parkinson. She told the story of her three months on the space station Mir. She had stunned the studio audience by saying how boring it all was. With only an O-level in Serbo-Croat, she had great difficulty in communicating with her Russian fellow travellers. She much prefers bungee jumping.
Being in her seventies and the oldest woman to go into space, the only scary episode was when, as a non-swimmer, she splashed down in the shark-infested Timor Sea. She had to wait two hours while the crew of the USS Nimitz watched the Super Bowl, before coming to her rescue.
We understand that as an after-dinner speaker Jean now commands a bigger fee than Baroness Thatcher, who is said to be fuming and has called her agent to “restore the right priorities”.
July and August were quite dead. So, whilst Ernie polished off the last chapters of his best seller, Pat led an expedition to the Himalayas. Apart from reaching the summit, she was credited with discovering the corpse of a baby yeti. Imagine her disappointment when further research revealed that it was a pekinese left behind when a group of Korean climbers had to abandon their breakfast in the midst of an avalanche.
We should not forget that August of the Queen Mother’s hundredth birthday. (Isn’t she wonderful?) We could not match her, because Uncle Harry had to wait another two days before celebrating. For him, there was, as you may know, an added bonus in that the week before, Fiona, his wife of 22, presented him with twins.
As we told you last year, grandson Ben took a commission in the army. He left his base in Hereford hurriedly at the end of the month to go on some hush-hush mission. We were all very concerned for his well-being.
September and another success, Marilyn wins the Eurovision Song Contest by an unprecedented margin with an updated version of “Yes we have no bananas!” Redolent of wartime shortages and rationing, it reduced the German Jury to a state of apoplexy. (NUL POINTS!) Modesty itself, the musical icon attributed her success to the encouragement of Sir Cliff Richard and the backing of Oasis. (Aren’t Liam and Noel little charmers?)
There were three pleasant surprises in October. First our granddaughter won an Oscar for her role in “Freddie Starr ate my hamster” – a touching account of the true story behind the tabloid headline. Her acceptance speech moved Sylvester Stallone to tears.
Then, following last year’s Nobel Prize for literature, Ernie won the Booker prize for his poignant tale of an alcoholic in Saudi Arabia – “Legless in Mecca”. Sadly, he could not accept the award in person. He was indulging his penchant for travel and exploration by leading the first spring expedition to the South Pole by camel.
Lastly, much to our relief, Ben returned to England looking sun-tanned and fit. He remains tight-lipped, but as far as we can gather he has been working for the CIA as an SAS secondee behind enemy lines in Sierra Leone. (Pat thought she caught a glimpse of him on the news after the rescue of the hostages.)
November, and more joy for Marilyn, her son Joss was awarded his doctorate. We were hardly surprised, but he was delighted to be headhunted by the Sorbonne and take the Jean-Paul Sartre chair in existential philosophy.
Later we were stunned to see Sister Mary on the news being led away in handcuffs by the police. She had been the driver of the JCB in the raid on the Dome. She was unrepentant shouting “Another blow for pensioners” as she was bustled inside the police van. Given her unblemished record and age, she should get no more than five years and could be out in three. She remains in our thoughts and prayers.
December brought some disappointment for Ernie, Nigel and Ben. After the England players called off their strike, the RFU no longer required their services against the Pumas. It would have been quite a first to have three generations running on to the pitch at Twickenham.
And now for the big news. A year has passed and we have not moved house. But we are a footloose and restless family – always looking for new horizons. At the moment, it’s a commercial secret, but the news will soon break. Needing a pied-a-terre in the great metropolis, we have just been notified that our bid for the Dome has been accepted. We shall of course have to make good the damage that Mary caused last month.
Meanwhile, watch out! Pat and Marilyn have been asked to join Naomi Campbell, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Liz Hurley and others to bare all for a 2001 David Bailey calendar for Children in Need.
With much love
Pat and Ernie
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